Looks Like We've Somehow, Possibly, Maybe Fallen in Love
by UndoneChaos
Summary: The assignment was, with a partner, to find a word that equally describes the both of you, to write down the word's definition, and why you think that word described you both…. the only word blaring bright red, sharp, and violently mean behind closed lids was 'freak', and I couldn't think of a damn person who fit that description as well as I did. CuRe DylanxEvan (PetexMichael) T-M


The assignment was, with a partner, to find a word that equally described the both of you, to write down the word's definition, and why you think that word suited you both. For a junior English class, the task was almost stupid. For me, it was Hell– seeing as the only word blaring bright red, sharp, and violently mean behind my closed lids was 'freak', and I couldn't think of a damn person who fit that description as well as I did.

"I am _so_ not doing this," I groaned, peeling my eyes away from where the instructions had been scrawled across a cracked chalkboard that hung dangerously off the back wall of the dingy classroom I'd stupidly allowed myself to enter this morning. Of all days to actually go to school, and I pick this one. Well, it's not like I was here by choice. It turns out that skipping three days a week because Benny's or band practice is more important is actually _not_ a good idea, and my grades had started to slip (well, what was left to be allowed to slip, anyway). I suppose Park County High's principal had gotten ahold of my mom and convinced to her actually give a fuck about my future, because this morning I was personally escorted to my damned classroom door by the bitch.

"Nathan, pay a-damned-ttention when I'm up here teaching," my crone of a teacher, Mrs. Stephan hissed. I spun around in my chair, throwing my feet up onto my desk as I bared my teeth and growled at her.

"It's _Dylan_, you old bag," I grunted, holding up my middle finger in her general direction. It's not like I gave a fuck anyway, I knew that if she sent me to the principal, and the principal gave enough of a shit to contact my mom _again_, that my guardian bitch wouldn't even care anyway. She thought I was a delinquent, someone not even worthy of her time. I swear the only reason I was at school today was probably thanks to my damned step-dad, who at least pretended to give a crap about me.

"Just pick your stupid partner, David," the crone hissed, shuffling papers, "or I'll pick one for you."

"It's Dylan, you fat bitch!" I barked back, the last straws of my temper snapping. I was nearly about to lunge off my desk and wrap my thin fingers around Mrs. Stephan's fat neck when I felt someone's cloaked and thin, yet ridiculously strong arm hold me back.

"Dylan, let's not be irrational now," I heard a deep voice purr, and I held my tongue as its owner's lips brushed against my gauged earlobe. "I'll be your partner, it won't be that hard now, will it?"

I always wondered how–what with the background he came from–Evan could always stay so calm in any situation, as opposed to me, who lost their damned temper over everything from socks to skydiving. I sighed and wriggled out from under Evan's arm, nodding slightly. "Mrs. Stephan, may I please be excused," I barked in a monotone, not bothering to wait for her response before I gripped onto Evan's heavy coat sleeve, dragging him behind me as I escaped the English classroom I knew better as Hell itself.

Before but a word could escape my taller friend's lips I let out a heavy grunt. "I tried today, don't give me any of that shit because I tried."

"You were in your first period for fifteen minutes," Evan spoke slowly. "But yes, I suppose this is farther than any of us have gotten in the past two weeks. Well, except for Georgie," the taller boy continued, "but Georgie is forced daily to attend what Hell we call 8th grade. I'd say I'm proud, Dylan, but I'm not."

Of course you aren't, I wanted to mutter. Evan, being the most 'non-conformist' of us all, practically refused to feel any sort of emotion any normal teenage 'conformist' could process. "Whatever, Evan. Bum me a smoke and carry me to coffee or I'm stealing your hearse," I joked. Evan just huffed, digging a hand into his coat pocket before retrieving a pack of clove cigarettes.

"I only have one left, and don't doubt for a second I'm giving it to you," Evan drawled. I snatched the pack out of his hand and tipped it sideways, allowing the last heavenly clove to fall into my palm. I threw the empty box into the nearest public garbage, pulling a buffed up lighter out of my skinnies' back pocket and bringing it to the cigarette, flicking the crappy Bic and lighting up the cancer stick.

Evan yanked the fag out of my hand before I could even place it in my mouth to take a puff, and I hissed, pocketing my lighter and glaring up at the taller boy. He looked back at me from under wild, black curls, the nearest thing to a smirk you'd ever see crossing his lips as he took a drag of what was supposed to be _my_ ecstasy.

"Band practice, then?" he questioned. I shook my head, still plotting a way to get my clove back.

"Georgie's still in school, like you said earlier. Plus, Henri's away for the week. Band practice would be a bit... lagging with just us, don't you think?" I spat back, yanking the cigarette from Evan's lips whilst he was paying the most of his attention to my words. I stuck the fag between my lips, sucking in a heavy breath of tobacco and letting a near orgasmically pleased expression cross my face.

"Cunt," Evan spat, glaring at the clove hanging between my pierced lips. "But yes, I suppose so. Ugh, well then, what do we do?"

I pulled the cigarette from between my own lips, placing it back between Evan's. "Fuck in the graveyard until we awaken each and every spirit of the undead, then make an army with their ghosts to take down the conformist bitches running out government," I shrugged, shooting out an option.

"But would we have to fuck though?" Evan's question caused a hearty laugh to fall past my lips and I'm stuck this way, laughing, near coughing, until my guffaws reduced to giggles. I cocked an eyebrow, smirk still present on my face.

"I suppose not, but that wouldn't be as fun, would it?" I laughed again at my own perverted self, pushing Evan's arm slightly to show that I'm just screwing around with him. "Nah, man, like I said. Benny's or GTFO. I need my coffee; the bitch didn't let me take my dose this morning."

"Oh, fine, but I'm not paying for you. In fact, I'm not paying for me, either. It's your turn." Evan pulled the fag from between his pale lips and placed it between mine. I smiled gratefully, inhaling another deep, thankful breath of tobacco before again grinning like an idiot.

"Sure, boo. Whatever you say."


End file.
